


Phantasm

by Saber_Wing



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fix it?, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Time Travel Fix-It, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22740712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saber_Wing/pseuds/Saber_Wing
Summary: “What the fuck,” Tony rasped, with feeling.Not-Steve smiled. Tony wanted to tell him to stop. A smile on a face like that should never look so sad. But despite everything, he gazed at Tony like he’d hung the stars. Like he could stand there and look forever. And Tony couldn’t make himself say anything at all.“I must have taken a wrong turn.” There was something defeated in the slump to his shoulders. The way his gaze drank Tony in, as if afraid he might disappear. “I’m sorry."Tony takes one look at the man who appears in his lab and knows he isn’t Steve Rogers. But whoever sent him did a hell of a job.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 405





	Phantasm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a woefully self-indulgent multi-verse mixing piece featuring my Steve and Tony (loosely based on Avengers Assemble Stony) and Endgame Steve/Tony that I hope you enjoy. Also, I would like to take a moment to clarify that this is not in ANY way Steve Rogers bashing. You leave my poor, sad, 100 year old son alone.

Tony took one look at the man who’d appeared in his lab and knew he wasn’t Steve Rogers. But whoever sent him had done a hell of a job.

Not-Steve froze where he’d appeared, just inside the door to Tony’s lab, and for a moment, seemed more stunned than _Tony_ was. The blood drained from his face, and both men stared at each other, dumbstruck.

Then Not-Steve took a shambling step forward, and suddenly, he was _beaming_ at Tony. His eyes, the same deep blue they’d always been. _Man_ were they ever blue. But they looked old. Tired, in a way sleep couldn’t fix. It left Tony simultaneously intrigued and horrified.

He had the same nose. The same jaw. The same blond hair: perhaps a few shades darker. But those _eyes..._

Who the fuck was this guy?

What _happened_ to him?

The billionaire took a step backward, almost involuntarily, and Not-Steve seemed to come back to himself. He focused on Tony. _Really_ focused, with scrutiny so intense, only years of training in the public eye kept him from squirming.

Whatever he found, it seemed to pain him. His expression closed off and he squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened them again, they looked ancient. He smiled at Tony: tiny, broken. Hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was wearing what looked like a space suit in red, white, and black. A suit that looked conspicuously like Stark-tech. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, wistfully apologetic. “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

Tony swallowed a bubble of hysterical laughter. _Oh, sure. No problem. I wasn’t doing anything. What brings you to my neck of the woods?_ But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make himself form the words.

“What the fuck,” Tony rasped, with feeling.

Not-Steve smiled again _._ Tony wanted to tell him to stop. A smile on a face like that should never look so sad. But despite everything, he gazed at Tony like he’d hung the stars. Like he could stand there and look forever. And Tony couldn’t make himself say anything at all.

“I must have taken a wrong turn.” There was something defeated in the slump to his shoulders. The way his gaze drank Tony in, as if afraid he might disappear. “I’m sorry."

Okay, that cleared up _nothing._

Without looking away from his uninvited guest, Tony spoke, addressing his AI in a voice he was proud didn’t shake. “Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

“ _At your service, Sir.”_

This _was_ Steve. It had to be. Tony knew him too well to think otherwise. It was in the tilt of his lips. The set of his jaw. The way he stood patiently, waiting to hear what their next course of action would be. He knew that dimple in his cheek. The way his eyes would crinkle when he kissed it.

Oh, God.

_I’m gonna throw up._

Tony swallowed hard. Tried to collect himself, as best he could with his lover’s doppelgänger gazing back at him with sad, yearning eyes. “Where’s Steve?”

_“Captain Rogers is in the library.”_

Not-Steve waited, standing impassively. Someone could have set the guy’s hair on fire, and Tony didn’t think he would have reacted. He seemed frighteningly blank. Too _tired_ to feel. Not at all like the passionate, sarcastic little shit he’d fallen in love with.

What _happened_ to _him?_

“Tell him to get down here,” Tony lofted, with forced nonchalance. “ _Now.”_

* * *

The tension was so thick, Tony _wanted_ to cut it with a knife, just to get it over with.

“To summarize,” _his_ Steve was saying, tapping his foot from where he sat on the couch opposite Not-Steve. “On your Earth. You and Tony allowed these Accords to divide you. Then things came to a head at this bunker, where you and Bucky beat him within an inch of his life. Is that the gist of it?”

 _Oh, boy._ Things never ended well when Steve got judge-y.

“It’s not that simple,” the doppelgänger replied, hands clasped in his lap. “Neither of us saw things for what they were. Zemo wanted the Avengers out of the way, and he used the Accords to achieve that. Among other things. We played right into his hands, and the world suffered for it. We weren’t together when it mattered. And even when we came back, tried to do better...it was never the same. We managed to beat Thanos, but Natasha. Tony. They—" He covered his mouth with his hand and looked away.

“Divided we fall,” Steve murmured, resigned. More to himself than anybody else. “And now you intend to use the infinity stones for yourself. What gives you the right?”

Not-Steve dropped his arm, leaving both to dangle uselessly at his sides. His face was intent, but his eyes were empty.

“They’re gone. I know that. But if I can go back to when it all began. Set things right. It’s…too late for us. But _they’ll_ have a fighting chance.”

“That’s not how this works,” Steve began, hint of a Brooklyn accent creeping into his tone. “You’ve hit the end 'a the line here, pal.”

Oh, no. This was not happening. As hot as it would undoubtedly be, Tony was not about to watch his boyfriend throw down with _himself._ It was like a comedy of errors. Something he’d see on Saturday Night Live. Not in his fucking _basement._

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same in my position.” Something flickered across Not-Steve’s expression. The first hint of passion -- of _anger --_ Tony had seen from him yet. He surged to his feet, glancing at Tony with eyes so haunted, he nearly staggered under their weight. “Move heaven and earth to keep him safe.”

Steve bristled. “Don’t talk about him like you know a damned thing. You don’t _know_ him!”

“I _love_ him!” Not-Steve screamed, on the edge of a sob.

Silence.

Not-Steve froze, face white with astonishment. He stumbled, legs crumpling underneath him. Collapsing back onto the couch. “I loved him,” he whispered, raw. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to say that.

Maybe he hadn’t even realized.

Tony understood then, the tragedy unfolding before them. He understood.

He witnessed the moment _his_ Steve got it, too.

Something pitying overtook Steve’s expression. He gaped at his double, mute with disbelief.

It morphed into an ugly, visceral rage. He shook a finger at his counterpart, voice taut with fury. “You _loved_ him? You –” He took a breath. Made a visible effort to reign himself in. “You _left_ him. In Siberia. In that freezing, barren wasteland _.”_

Tony caught his boyfriend’s hand in both of his. “Steve...”

 _“_ You left him there, by himself!”

Pain. Sharp, fast, flickered behind Not-Steve’s eyes before disappearing again. “T’Challa knew where he was. Someone would have come for him.”

Steve placed himself between his double and Tony. Tony could see his hackles raising. His mile-wide protective streak. “Did you know the arc reactor was only sustaining the suit, and not his life?”

Not-Steve bristled. “I wanted to _disable_ the suit. Keep him from hurting Bucky. I didn’t want to kill him, but he wasn’t going to _stop._ I didn’t know what else to do.”

“ _Down,_ boy.” Tony stepped in front of his boyfriend, taking him by both shoulders. “Things happened. It’s over now. He knows he fucked up. I’m sure other me did, too. And you said you guys patched things up, right?” He asked, throwing the question over his shoulder.

Not-Steve bit his lip. “I... like to think so. Things were never the same, but...maybe they could have been better.” His eyes grew far-away. Dreamy with remembrance. “If we’d had the time.”

Tony shrugged. “Okay, then. You’re even.”

Steve clenched his jaw. Tony could tell he was gearing up for a fight. “How can you be so flippant about this?”

“Why are _you_ taking it so seriously?” Tony threw up his hands. “These things didn’t happen to you and me, and they’re not _going_ to. We broke up the band for, what, a week, before we realized it was a dumb idea?”

Steve exploded. “That’s not the point!”

“What _is_ the point? You’re not telling him anything he doesn’t already know. Look at him! Pretty sure we don’t need to kick him while he’s down. He’s doing a bang-up job all by himself!”

Finally, a bit of the rage seemed to dissipate. Steve gazed at his counterpart for a long moment. Something unreadable twisted in his expression, as if he couldn’t bear the sight -- before backing away, all but stumbling out the door.

“Steve, God _damn it,_ don’t...” Tony groaned, sparing a glance for Not-Steve, observing from the couch with the same dull, watchful eyes. “I’ll be back. Stay put. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone, and for the love of fuck, don’t touch anything!”

Tony hurried out of the lab after his lover. He caught up to him at the foot of the stairs and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around.

Steve’s face was anguished. His head, bowed. And his eyes...

...there were _tears_ in his eyes.

Tony’s breath caught in his throat. He cupped Steve’s cheek. Coaxed his head up. “Baby, look at me.”

“It could have happened,” Steve rasped, as if he hadn’t heard. “ _So_ easily. If Ultron had torn us apart for longer than he did. If I’d...” Steve’s voice was smaller than Tony had ever heard it. He reached for Tony. Took his face in his hands. Tony could feel him shaking, where he traced his thumb over his cheek. “I can’t lose you like that. I can’t...”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tony hauled him into his arms. “Nobody’s losing anyone. We faced Thanos already, remember? He lost. Hard.”

Steve chuckled despite himself. His voice was muffled where he’d buried his face between Tony’s shoulder and his neck. “Yeah.”

“You’re scared. I get it. But is that any reason to take it out on _him?”_

Steve sighed. He made no move to extricate himself from Tony’s embrace. “No. But he -”

“Stop.”

Steve gave a frustrated scoff, that was in _no_ way endearing. His voice was small. Ashamed, like it was when he was wrong, and not quite ready to admit it. “He hurt you.”

“Not me. Doppelgänger me.” Tony clucked his tongue. “And you’re only coming down so hard on him because he’s your worst nightmare embodied in a person. You don’t like having a reminder that somebody with your face and genetic footprint could royally fuck up so bad, because it means you might be capable of doing the same thing.”

“A lesson in the art of feelings, by Tony Stark.” Steve gave a startled chuckle. “Didn’t you tell me once that’d be a cold day in hell?”

“Yeah, well. I don’t pay my therapist for nothing. And my boyfriend’s a good influence.” Tony pulled back far enough for Steve to gaze at him with soft eyes. “Just...be nice, okay? He’s already lost everything. He doesn’t need your crippling fear of failure on top of everything else.”

“Not pulling your punches today, are you sweetheart?” Steve’s tone was dry, but there was unmistakable amusement underneath.

Tony shrugged. “I can’t. You’d get bored.”

Steve sighed. “You’re right.” His cheeks colored with embarrassment. “I was out of line.”

Tony grimaced. “Probably.”

“I... suppose I owe him an apology.”

“ _Super_ probably.”

“Okay.” Steve heaved another sigh. “Okay. I’ll be back. I will. I swear, I just...need some air.” Steve pecked the tip of Tony’s nose. He paused, uncertain. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself for a few minutes? I don’t know if I like the thought of you alone with him. He’s at the end of his rope. He could be capable of anything.”

Tony thought back to the Steve waiting for him in his lab. To those sad, soulful eyes, filled with longing. "He’s more likely to off _himself_ than ever hurt me.”

Something dark, almost sympathetic, passed over Steve’s expression before he nodded. “You’re probably right. Still...”

“I’ll be careful.” Tony raised a hand, materializing a gauntlet from the watch on his wrist. “He’ll behave himself. If he doesn’t want a repulsor to the face.”

Steve gave him a crooked grin. “That Tony Stark. What a guy. Who’d ever mess with a fella like him?”

“Stupid people, obviously.” Tony caught his hand. Gave it a squeeze. “Don’t be long?”

“As if I could stay away.” Steve brought Tony’s fingers to his lips. Kissed his knuckles.

Tony laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Get out of here. I’ll deal with our guest.”

Steve paused a few steps up the staircase, eyes dancing with mirth. “Is that what we’re calling him?”

“I’ve been calling him Not-Steve in my head, but it’s not really working for me. I need an acronym or something.”

Steve snorted. “I could probably think of a few good ones, but I promised I’d behave _.”_

Tony mock-glared at him. “Steve...”

“Nope. I’m being nice.” Steve leaped backwards up the stairs. “See? Get a load of how nice I am.”

Tony cringed. “You _know_ I hate it when you do that. Why can’t you just watch where you’re _fucking_ walking _,_ like a normal person?”

Steve muttered his response, in an undertone Tony was sure he wasn’t meant to hear. “You weld without goggles. You don’t get to criticize.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I said I can’t, I’m too lost in your eyes.”

“Good- _bye,_ Steve!”

Tony could still hear him laughing as he made his way back toward the lab, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

It was strange, to feel heavy the moment he stepped back into the lab. Usually, Tony came here to be _unburdened._ Now, with the doppelgänger’s eyes following him into the room, he felt more weighted down than ever.

Tony shouldered it as best he could, sauntering over to the fridge with energy he didn’t feel. “Can I offer you a drink?” He pulled the door open, snatching a bottle of water for himself – not really because he wanted it. More to have something to do with his hands.

“I’m okay,” Steve answered.

Tony couldn’t keep calling him _Not-_ Steve. It felt like a lie. His eyes – those blue, _blue_ eyes, no matter what universe they came from – were soft as Tony made his way back to sit across from him. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what to say.

What _could_ you say, to a man who’d lost everything?

Tony tried to put himself in Steve’s position. Tried to imagine a world where he didn’t have a dozen lovingly stolen sweaters squirreled away in his closet. A world where he didn’t know Steve’s favorite ice cream flavor was butter pecan, or that he loved the colors orange and pink _,_ because they made a sunset beautiful. He tried to imagine not loving Steve Rogers.

Tony didn’t think there was such a world.

He wondered if it would be better or worse to tell Steve that.

Tony tried to make his tone light, teasing. He didn’t succeed.

“I’m sorry. He’s not usually that judge-y ‘til you get to know him.”

Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.” He swallowed hard, seemed to steel himself, before continuing. “You’re together.”

Mute with nameless dread, Tony could only nod.

For a long moment, Steve was silent. He swallowed hard, throat working convulsively. “He makes you happy?”

Tony nearly scoffed, because of _course_ Steve made him happy. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Scream it to the skies. But here, now, sitting with the shadow of a man he loved, he didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to twist the knife.

Steve seemed to understand. He nodded once, the gesture jerky and aborted.

“It’s okay, Tony.”

It broke his heart -- the way Steve said his name, like a prayer. _Tony._ Soft, reverent. Like he worshiped every sound.

“Yeah,” Tony breathed, because he owed him that. He reached across the table. Took Steve’s hand.

"Good." Steve smiled at him -- a desolate, hollow-eyed thing. "At least one of us does.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, lets be honest: AA Steve and MCU Steve would legit fight each other. I wanted to see it. This was born of that. I wish I was sorry, but I actually don't think I am.
> 
> I AM sorry I made myself sad. Poor 2023 Steve. Maybe he'll go on and have a life of his own with 2012 Tony, who knows?


End file.
